


Desert Storm

by MistressPussyKat



Category: Richard Armitage - Fandom, Strike Back, Strike Back - Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-29 00:16:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7662754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressPussyKat/pseuds/MistressPussyKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stranded at a desert oasis.  (OK, it's mostly just PWP. With or without, your call. ;) )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Ordeal

**Author's Note:**

> A song came on the radio as hubby and I were out doing errands today. A favorite song of mine. It reminded me that I'd written this fic ages ago, based on a dream I had after seeing Strike Back (Origins) for the first time.
> 
> It's been up on Tumblr for a few years.
> 
> And now, it's here. Enjoy!

The sun is hot; the air is dry. The palm trees provide welcome shade. How did I get here? _Don’t think about it!_ What matters is that I am here. And so is he.  
I look up at him, as he surveys the lay of the sand. Somehow, he found this tiny oasis in the vast desert. I watch as he tests to see if the water is safe. How does he know? _Don’t think about it!_

I must have made a sound. Turning his head, he looks over at me with a surprised half-smile playing about his lips. What is that emotion I see in his eyes? “You’re awake,” he says, his deep voice almost whispering it.

I nod, and try to smile. My dry lips stop me. He sees the twinge of pain and quickly dips his scarf in the water. He kneels next to me. “Here,” he says, gently cradling my head in the crook of his arm, dribbling water onto my lips and into my mouth. He lays one end of the wet scarf over my mouth. “Just let it sit for a moment.”

With the other end, he softly brushes the sand from my eyes and face. His hand smooths back my hair and presses ever so lightly against the back of my neck.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he murmurs. His gaze is intense, his blue eyes still burning with that emotion I can’t quite read.

Moving the scarf away from my mouth, I croak out, “You didn’t.”

“Shhh,” he says, laying his long, graceful fingers against my mouth, “don’t talk.” He sits down in the sand next to me and pulls me tenderly onto his lap. Squeezing a few more drops onto my lips, he places the scarf back over my mouth, and wraps his arms around me, still stroking my hair and carefully brushing more sand from my face. I close my eyes and feel him rock me against his chest. Is that a sob I hear from deep inside him? I open my eyes to see a single tear roll down his cheek.

I reach up, wiping the tear and slowly brush the sand from around his mouth. He starts to shake his head, but I place my hands on either side of his face and slowly draw his mouth down to mine. He pulls back for a moment, gazing at my mouth, then into my eyes. He closes the distance and softly brushes a kiss, filled with promise, across my lips. I reach up to run my fingers through his hair and urge him to deepen the kiss. I feel his lips smile against mine as he captures my one hand, and pulls back just enough to break lip contact. I can still feel his breath against me.

“Not yet, my girl,” he chuckles, the mirth lighting his eyes. “Come with me. If you’re up to kissing, you’re up to bathing.” He helps me to my feet, slowly. At my first wobbling step, he puts an arm around me and leads me over to the small pond. “Let’s get you in the water. Cool you down,” he says, chuckling, “in more ways than one.”

“If you insist,” I reply, “but you’re coming in with me.”

“No,” he intones, “you’re going in, getting cleaned up. Just let the cool water take away some of the heat. Then a little nap. You’re still exhausted. I’ll get cleaned up while you’re sleeping.”

I feign a pout, and then regret it as my lip cracks slightly. He sees the momentary pain cross my face and immediately pulls me to him in a fierce embrace. There’s no need for words, his eyes say everything … he’s had a scare. And he doesn’t scare easily. He holds me close for a moment, then slowly pulls back and, with a bit of a smirk, points to the water. “Bath. Now.” Then placing two fingers under my chin, lifting my gaze to his, he grins wickedly, “then we can play. Later.”

He chastely helps me undress and slip into the dark water. It cools and soothes, and soon I’m refreshed. I dunk under to get my hair wet, and rinse the sand out of it. When I’m done he helps me climb out, and wraps his shirt around my shoulders. “I rinsed your clothes,“ he says as he buttons the shirt all the way up to my neck. Reaching to roll up the sleeves, he says, “They’re drying on the rocks.”

I smile, rest my hand on his cheek, “You’re a good man, John Porter.”

He rests his forehead against mine and just sighs. After a moment, he looks into my eyes and says, “Try to rest. The sun will be setting soon. I’ll be right here, washing up.”

I stretch out under the nearest palm tree, on a stingy patch of grass. I immediately drift off.

A soft fluttering sensation gently wakens me. I open my eyes to see a nearly naked John stretched out next to me. Wearing only briefs and a smile, he is softly feathering the hair back from my face. “Hello, gorgeous,” he whispers. “I hope you don’t mind, but I rinsed out my clothes, too. And all I have to wear is this…” provocatively pointing to his undies.

“I guess I don’t mind,” I whisper back, and smile. The bath and the rest did the trick. No cracking lips this time. He notices, too.

Dipping his head, he brings his lips to mine in a torrid kiss. As it spins out, my hands reach to clutch at his shoulders. He pulls back and I’m breathless. Getting to his knees, he pulls me to him and captures my mouth in another burning kiss, setting all the nerves in my body aflame. Lips still locked, he pulls us both to our feet. His hands find their way into my hair, caressing the back of my head and working their way down my neck to my shoulders and under the collar of the shirt.

Slowly, he unbuttons it and slides it down my arms, letting his fingers trail after the fabric, eliciting tingling along my skin. His kiss slides down my neck. I can’t breathe. A moan escapes me – or was it him? – as his teeth nibble at the base of my throat.

The shirt slides to pool at our feet. I reach up, a hand on each cheek and pull back just enough to catch my breath. 

Changing the angle of the kiss, he plunders my mouth, his tongue delving deeply. The moan I hear is his, deep and throaty. 

My fingers trace down his arms, then slide up his sides and across his heaving chest. He breaks the kiss and looks deeply into my eyes, holding me apart from him. With a groan, he pulls me into another blistering kiss, our tongues dancing, tasting, mating. 

My hands move to his waist, and then inside the band of his briefs. I push them down over his hips, past his gorgeous ass, to fall to the ground.

He steps out of them, never relenting the kiss. He steps forward, nudging me backward. Back, back still until I’m against the palm tree. He cuffs my hands over my head and takes the kiss down my throat, onto my shoulder. I’m writhing against him, trying to break his hold, wanting to touch him. He whispers hoarsely, “You like?” I can only moan, lowly. He laughs wickedly, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

His kissing continues downward, licking and nibbling my skin. His other hand is exploring my body, cupping my breast, lifting it to his mouth and suckling it, running his tongue over the nipple until it puckers for him, nipping the bud just to the point of pain, then laving it and suckling it more. 

I groan loudly, writhing and straining against his hold on my wrists. I can feel myself getting wet, even wetter as he kisses the underside of my breast, then grazes his teeth against it. I beg him, “Please, John, please.” 

His hand strokes down my belly, across my hip and cups my ass, squeezing and kneading the cheek. With a featherlight touch, he dances his fingers across my thigh, and gently nudges my legs apart. With the back of his hand, he brushes against my opening, causing me to moan loudly. He dances his fingers across my inner thigh, barely touching the skin. My breathing goes shallow. His middle finger slides across the outside of my wetness, catching some on the tip. He brings it to first his lips, then mine, “Taste yourself.” He runs his tongue across his lips and watches as I do the same. He leans down and captures my tongue lightly with his teeth and sucks hard. “You are delicious,” he purrs.

His hand wanders back to my inner thigh. He rubs the full length of his finger across my opening, causing me to scream his name. He teases the tip into my opening, circling my clit, all the while watching my eyes. He pushes that long finger in a little more and adds a second one. My hips buck and I beg him again, “Please, please, please.”

“Tell me what you want,” he growls, all pretense at playing vanishing.

“You!” I scream. “Now!”

He releases my wrists and my arms fall limply against the tree, my head lolling side to side. He firmly thrusts his fingers into me, causing another scream. He slowly withdraws them, then kneels in front of me. His eyes are black with desire. Placing a hand on each hip, he tilts my hips up to his face. Glancing up at me, he smirks and then licks me. I close my eyes and nearly black out.

“Open your eyes. Look at me. Watch me have you.” He licks me again and I cry out. I thrust my fingers through his hair and hold on. He growls again, “That’s right. Hold me, guide me, help me make you cum.” 

I tip my hips up to his mouth. He thrusts his tongue deep inside me, swirling it, touching spots I didn’t realize I had. I thrust my hips forward, grasping and holding his hair, pushing my opening to his mouth. He licks again, suckles. I feel his hand move from my hip. This time when he thrusts his tongue into me, his finger plunges in, too. Tongue and finger, in and out, in and out, until I scream and flood his mouth. 

My body goes limp, and he lowers me to his lap. He nuzzles against my hair and places butterfly kisses along my temples and forehead.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs softly and pulls me close to his chest. I feel the sob, more than hear it. I look up into his eyes, seeing the remainder of the fear there. Reaching up, I tousle his hair. “That’s my boy,” I manage a chuckle around the lump of emotion in my throat. This amazing man, this ingenious man, this overwhelming courageous man has been scared about me. I need to show him that I’m fine, better than fine, and that I’m overjoyed to be with him.

I start to sit up, and he admonishes, “No, relax. Lie back.”

Pushing myself to my feet, I turn and look down at him sitting on the sparse grass. Giving as good a smirk as he can, I put both hands on his shoulders and give a light shove. “No,” I match his intonation from earlier, “YOU lie back. Now.” I flash him a lascivious grin and waggle my eyebrows at him. He barks out a half-laugh. “Whot?” 

“Just do as you’re told,” I bark out the order, and purr, “sergeant.” His eyes round as I kneel down between his long, outstretched legs. “I believe I said to lie back,” I say firmly, and punctuate the words with another not-so-light shove.

Surprised, he falls back, a delicious little grin on his lips.

“It’s my turn to play,” I whisper, taking his hardening member in my hand and caressing it lightly at first, then more vigorously. He’s fully hard now, and the little grin on his face has disappeared. His head is tilted back, his mouth is agape, his eyes are closed. I hear him groan, and a bit of moisture appears on his end. I touch my tongue to his tip to lick it off and his eyes flash open.

I repeat his words to me … “That’s right. Look at me. Watch me have you.” I lick him again and he groans loudly. He pushes his fingers through my hair and holds on. I lower my mouth to take him inside, pausing to coo, “Guide me.” With his fingers in my hair, he holds my head and begins thrusting his hips, pumping his full erection in my mouth.

I run my tongue around his shaft as he thrusts in and out of my mouth. I reach under him and touch that special place. He explodes with a guttural moan and bucks his hips one last time. His whole body goes limp.

I lift my head, and am greeted with his startling blue gaze. That bit of fear has been erased. There’s a look of pure satisfaction there now. That sweet cupid’s bow of a mouth is tilted up with a smile that reaches all the way to his eyes.

“Oh, my darling girl,” he rumbles, and pulls me up to lay against his side, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I snuggle up close to him, my arm across his chest, my legs tangled with his. As we both drift off to sleep, I no longer hear a sob. Just smooth, quiet contentment.


	2. Midnight at the Oasis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More PWP. With stars, more sand and a tent. Oh, and a camel.

I shiver. Half-asleep, I reach out for him, instinctively turning toward his warmth. My hand touches grass instead of skin, and my eyes fly open. A moment of panic seizes me. Where is he?

It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the inky nighttime. The sun had set after we’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms. The somewhat familiar shapes of the palm trees and sand dunes were now cloaked in darkness. I think I see a silhouette, and call softly, “John?” 

The silhouette moves, standing to his full height. “Right here, my girl,” he replies. My panic attack evaporates. He comes over to sit beside me, bringing with him my clothes he’d so thoughtfully rinsed and left to dry in the sun earlier in the day. He is fully dressed. Are his clothes different? I shake my head. Must be an after effect of too much sun …

“It gets pretty chilly out here at night,” he explains. “Thought you might want to wear something more than what you’ve got on.” His white teeth gleam in the night, as he smirks mischievously, his eyes raking down my body. Only then did I remember that I wasn’t wearing anything but his shirt. “Wearing” was stretching the truth. It was laid across my shoulders, unbuttoned. I’m sure it had been in a heap on the grass when I’d fallen asleep. He smiles, seeing the question on my face, “I put it over you when I went to …” a momentary hesitation, he glances away and then back “… get the rest of our clothing.” 

“Thank you,” I reply, tugging it a little closer around me, wondering if I imagined that movement. “It is a bit chilly.”

“Let’s get you dressed, m’dear,” he says sweetly, “not that I mind you in your current state.” He winks, a silly grin on his gorgeous mouth. We laugh as he helps me dress, all the while giving each other wicked, silly grins and smirks, and bantering lightheartedly.

My eyes now fully adjusted to the darkness, I step away from the shelter of the palm trees, look up at the sky and gasp at the intensity of the star-lit canopy. “If it wasn’t for our situation,” I remark, half to myself, “this would be an extraordinarily gorgeous way to spend the night.” He steps behind me, pulling me gently against him, his arms encircling my waist, and looks up as well. “Yes,” he whispers, then kisses the top of my head, “quite extraordinary.”

He stands holding me that way for several moments. Then, as if coming out of a reverie, he turns me to face him. “Our situation … yes, well, let’s make the best, shall we?” Taking my hand, and using the starlight as our guide, he carefully leads me through the thicket of palms and around to the other side of the pond. It’s a little rough, but he seems to know his way. How? Being the soldier he is, he probably scouted it out while I was sleeping. That must be it.

As we round the last of the huge boulders that obscure the area where we had been, I gasp. There in front of us, blazing in the night, is a tent. Tent is an understatement. The open flaps give glimpses of carpet-covered floors, comfortable furnishings, a table laden with food and drink. I rub my eyes, knowing that I must be seeing a mirage. I look back. No, it’s still there. I turn to him.

His smile is nearly as bright as the lamps illuminating the tent. At my incredulous gaze, he spreads his arms in a gesture of welcome, and says, “Welcome, my girl. All is at your disposal.” He takes my arm gently, and starts to lead me to the doorway. 

“Wait just a moment,” I say. I dig my heels in the sand, as he tries to tug me inside.

“Whot?” he smiles. “Don’t you want to go inside?”

“Whot, you ask? Are you joking? I think an explanation MIGHT be in order,” I grind out, wondering how long I can hold this anger in check. “You mean to tell me that the whole time we were out there,” I jab at his chest, “on the other side of these bloody boulders, laying in the sand, wondering if we were going to make it home alive, there was this … this … perfectly comfortable shelter right HERE!” My finger jabs into the middle of his chest. 

He keeps on smiling.

“Well, it’s certainly more than ‘shelter’,” he replies, picking up on the least important part. “If you come inside, you’ll see how wonder… OOOF!” My fist connects with his rock-hard abs, doubling him over momentarily. He recovers, and catches my next punch well before it connects. Cuffing my wrists in one hand and holding tightly, he takes a second to catch his breath. “Whot?” he asks, clearly astonished at what is happening.

Fuming, I struggle to free my wrists. He holds fast, that astonished look still on his face. 

“Whot?” he repeats, again. “You said you wanted some excitement. I thought you’d like this.”

“WHOT?” I echo his statement, only much louder. Taking several deep breaths, I try to calm down. I stare at him, waiting for him to explain.

“OK,” he says, sounding a bit contrite, “the first part of this went down a bit – yeah, a lot – more intensely than I intended. I wanted to surprise you. Sweep you off your feet, give you a bit of excitement.”

Trying to form a coherent, non-angry, thought, I sputter, “Excitement? You call this exciting? Life-threatening is not exciting. Exciting is going to Paris for the weekend!”

He lets go of my wrists, and turns away for a moment. “I admit, the first part didn’t go as planned,” he blurts out, quickly, “see, I was supposed to whisk you out of the cafe, into the waiting car, and drive like hell to get here. The premise being that the bad guys were right behind us.” He looks over at me, and I can see a shudder course across his shoulders. “That idiot, Percy, didn’t fill the petrol tank completely!!! That’s why we had to walk so far in the heat of the day.” He looked at me, and in the light I could see that he was still a bit shaken by what had happened, what the outcome might have been. 

“Please, m’dear,” he pleads. “You must know that I never meant for any harm to come to you. This was supposed to be a fantasy interlude. Like your favorite song, ‘Midnight at the Oasis.”

His face held the look of a little boy whose surprise had fallen flat. My anger deflated immediately.

“I called in a favor from the Sheik. He was waiting to hear from Percy, once we left the cafe, to know when to bring the tent and everything out here. But he never got the call. I’m going to kill Percy when we get back. As a contingency, there was a sat phone hidden over by the pond. I was calling him when you first woke up. I told him to wait until he heard from me before sending anyone out. I wanted to …” he stops talking as I held up my hand.

“You knew exactly where we were going?” I ask. 

“Yes.” He answers truthfully. “The Sheik owns this little bit of paradise.”

“You planned all this to sweep me off my feet. So we could have a bit of excitement. Because I like the song ‘Midnight at the Oasis’?”

“Yes. But …” He stops, as my hand comes up again.

“Shhhh. Just tell me this. When, exactly, did …” I sweep my hand around to encompass the tent and … was that a camel in a corral off to the side? … “all of this arrive.”

“Well,” he looks down at his boots, and then back up to my eyes, “once you got your ‘bath’, you looked refreshed, not sun-stroked. So when you drifted off, I called the Sheik.”

“Please tell me they weren’t here when we were … when we …,” I look at him, pleadingly.

“No, no, no! We were completely alone at that time. Honest!” He sends me a look that said he was, indeed, being honest. “The Sheik and his men got here a little while after we dozed. I heard them coming. That’s why I covered you with the shirt. Couldn’t have my best girl exposed.” The look he gives me was one of chagrin. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really am. This was supposed to be fun…” He stops as I raise my hand to his chest.

“So, does that make you the Sheik for the night?” I ask, a smirk etching its way onto my face.

“Yes, I suppose it does.” He answers, his smile growing.

“Do you have a harem in there?” I point to the tent, trying to hide a grin.

“NO! You’re all the woman I want, my dear girl,” he responds, reaching for me and gathering me in his arms. “Come inside with me. Please.”

I nod. “OK, let’s see what your Sheik came up with.” 

Smiling, he leads me into the main part of the tent. The sheer opulence is almost overwhelming.

On the table are all kinds of food and wine. I grab a few grapes as we start to explore. Popping one into John’s mouth, he gives a wicked grin.

“Don’t expect me to peel the damn thing!” I chuckle.

“Oh, never. I was just thinking of fun ways to share it,” he responds, laughing.

Leading me over to another partition. He sweeps back the curtain, revealing a bath chamber with a filled two-person tub, covered with rose petals. On the bench next to the tub are several big fluffy bath sheets.

With a squeal of delight, I run over to the tub and run my hands through the deliciously scented warm water. I hear a rumble of laughter behind me, as his hands clasp my hips. 

“Fancy a bit of a bath?” he asks, a sultriness sounding in his voice, and grinds his pelvis against my bottom. 

“Oh yes!” I respond, pushing back against him, swiveling my hips, rubbing hard against his erection.

He turns me to face him and captures my mouth in a torrid kiss. Tongues play, moans fill the air. 

“You have far too many clothes on for a bath,” he grinds out, passion already building behind his eyes. And below his waist. Without skipping a beat, he puts his hands on each side of my shirt front and quickly rips it apart, sending buttons flying. 

He pulls the shirt down over my arms, sending it to a heap on the floor, thrusts his hands into my hair and pulls my head back. He lowers his head, just hovering over my lips, his gaze burning. “Guess you’ll need to learn to undress faster, my girl,” he growls. “Who needs clothes,” I moan back to him. 

Threading my fingers through his hair, I pull his lips to mine and feast on them. My tongue glides over that cupid’s bow upper lip, tracing the hills and vales. His tongue peeks out, and I capture it and suckle, pulling it into my mouth to taste and devour.

He moans. Breaking the kiss, he growls “The bath will have to wait!” and lifts me in his arms. In a few strides, he stands beside the huge, round bed covered in silks, centered in the room. He lowers me from his arms, sliding my naked breasts along his still-clothed chest, my pelvis sliding across his burgeoning cock. 

“You, my Sheik,” I say breathlessly, “need to lose the camo.” Taking a cue from his actions, I rip open the front of his shirt, and push the sleeves back and down over his arms, leaving them trapped at the elbows. “Oh, gee, looks like you can’t move your arms, my darling,” I tease. Running my hands up his t-shirt clad chest, I feel his nipples harden under my touch. Taking one in my mouth, through the fabric, I suck hard and long. He groans. I do the same to its twin, and feel his response as his penis grows harder under his trousers.

I move my hands to his belt, and slowly unbuckle it. Looking up at his face, I see his eyes have closed, and his head is tilted back, his lips slightly parted. Unzipping his trousers, I reach for him. 

“Oh sergeant! You really have gone commando,” I chuckle throatily, and give him a hard squeeze. His eyes open wide, his dazzling blue eyes nearly black now. His mouth, no longer immobile, smirks mischievously. 

“That’s right, my girl,” he rumbles, and brings his freed arms up and around me tightly. “The better to distract you with. Never underestimate a soldier.”

He pushes me back against the soft, silky bed. While I watch, he pulls the t-shirt over his head, revealing his muscular chest, those beautiful biceps, and then drops the trousers and kicks off his boots. Standing there, gloriously naked, he smirks, “Lost the camo, as directed, my girl. You, though, seem to still have far too much clothing on. We need to remedy that. Now.”

Leaning a knee against the edge of the bed, he leans down and captures my breast in his warm mouth, suckling, running his tongue around the nipple. Releasing it, he licks the underside. I moan, and reach for him. He cuffs my wrists above my head, then suckles the other breast, licking, kissing, making me moan louder.

His kisses move down my belly, his tongue creating a fiery trail to my waist. Freeing my wrists, he removes my boots and socks. He unbuckles my belt, unzips my trousers, grasps my knickers and very slowly peels them down my thighs, over my calves, over my ankles, to drop on the floor. He works his kisses up my legs, my knees, my inner thigh. I’m writhing, my fingers clutching the bed covering, as his long fingers gently open my folds. I scream when his tongue touches my clit.

“Looks like you’re ready for me, m’dear,” he says, his voice gravelly, “but let’s make sure.” He runs his tongue up and down, then in and out of my slit. I yell his name and reach out for him. “Oh, yes,” he grins, “quite ready.”

He levers himself over me, and in one thrust is buried deep within me. The sensations are overwhelming, the feeling euphoric. And then he starts to move. Slowly at first, then quickening. His hips swivel, driving me wild. I wrap my legs around him, try to match his rhythm. He changes the pace, suddenly, slowing down. 

Looking into his eyes, I see a glimmer of amusement. “This is your fantasy, my girl,” he says lightly, still moving ever so slowly, “and here I am making all the decisions. Tell me, what do YOU want to do?”

“Oh, John!” I exclaim. In a quick motion, I roll us over so I am sitting atop him, gazing down into his dark eyes. I hear his rumbling laughter, and see that sexy little smirk of his. Reaching for his hands, I thread our fingers together and start moving. Leveraging against his strong arms, up, down, slowly, languidly. Swiveling from side to side. Up, teasingly far. Down, slowly encasing him. His hips start to buck beneath me. I look into his eyes, and shake my head. “Not yet, darling,” I tease. Another slow slide up, up and back down.

I lean down, licking him from belly to chest, circling his nipples, tugging lightly on them, nipping quickly, then licking again. I retrace the route, chest to belly, and back. His grip on my hands has tightened. His eyes are black, and I can see he is restraining himself, holding back. Locking my gaze to his, I smile, nod, and release his hands. He grabs my hips and thrusts deeply, quickly, repeatedly. I raise my arms over my head, reaching, lifting my hair, grinding against his thrusts. 

The orgasm hits hard and fast. A million stars explode inside me, the blinding pleasure coursing through my body. I hold fast to his hands at my hips, trying to steady. Failing, I collapse against his chest. He cums just seconds later.

There’s no sound but breathing. Heavy, hitched breathing. I feel his fingers caressing my hair. I hear a low rumble of laughter under my head. Raising my head to look into his eyes, I see his mouth bowed up in a pleased smile.

“Nicely done,” he quips.

I laugh, and roll off him to snuggle up against his side.

“Not too shabby, yourself,” I joke.

He pulls me tight against him. We doze, contented.

———

A little while later …

“Darling?”

“Yes, my girl.” 

“Don’t kill Percy. He’s just an idiot.”

“If you insist.”

“I do. Oh, and John…”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Next time you want to add excitement…”

“Yes? "

“Think Paris. Weekend at the Ritz. Platinum card.”

“Yes, my girl. Certainly,” and I can hear the rumble of his laughter as we drift off to sleep.

———-

A little while after that …

“What time is it, darling?”

“Why, it’s midnight. Why do you ask?”

“Send your camel to bed, John.”

“Whatever you say, m’dear.”


End file.
